Rescuing the Rescuer
by cartersdaughter
Summary: Bobby is always the go-to guy, helping anyone who needs it. What happens when he finds himself in a hunt over his head? Will the Winchesters come to his rescue like he would come to theirs? Based on a prompt from Ninecrow.


**Rescuing the Rescuer**

 **Bobby is always there for the brothers, coming to their aid whenever he is needed. What happens when the roles are reversed, and Bobby needs help? Will the Winchesters come to help or leave Bobby to fend for himself?**

Dean picked up the phone and dialed furiously.

Dialing the only number he could count on. He could call his father all he wanted, but who knew if John Winchester would answer. For heaven's sake, he hadn't answered when Dean was dying. Why would he answer now? Anyway, Sam's vision had nothing to do with their biological father; he didn't even know about the younger Winchester's psychic ability. Instead Sam had seen their surrogate father, the man who had stood behind them since this whole thing had begun.

"Come on, Bobby. Pick up, pick up," Dean muttered at the ringing cell phone as if prompting would make the older hunter sense the urgency of the call.

The older Winchester was careful to keep his voice low, in deference to his sleeping brother but he didn't dare go outside in case Sam had another vision. That first one had been frightening enough and lately Sam had been having follow up visions.

The phone rang a few more times before redirecting to voicemail. Dean heard the familiar message. "This is Bobby Singer's other, other cell. You should not have this number. But since you do, leave your message after the beep."

Dean took a deep breath to regain his composure before starting his message. "Hey Bobby this is Dean. Sam had a vision. Yeah, another one. But here's the thing: this one was about you. So if you could call me back so we know you're ok, that would be awesome."

He hanged up the phone shaking away his daze at the fact there had been no response. The older hunter was fine. He was always fine. There was nothing in this world that could take Bobby down. Still after Sam's vision, Dean would feel better if they took a road trip to check on the older hunter.

They were only a few hours from Sioux Falls; it wouldn't be anything more than a little detour to stop by the salvage yard. They had nowhere pressing to be at the moment. Their father, wherever he was, would probably have moved on by the time they reached him anyway. That seemed to be his MO. Give his sons coordinates to a location then disappear before they could reach him. Dean wasn't sure what was going on with his father, other than that the older man was frustrating the daylights out of him.

Dean was more inclined to check on Bobby than his father. It made him more nervous that Bobby wasn't picking up. Dean had tried every possible phone number he could think of in an attempt to reach the salvage yard owner. And none had worked. He was used to John giving him the cold shoulder, but Bobby never had. Even when he had threatened to fill John full of buckshot, the salvage yard owner had never frozen out the younger Winchesters. His message had been explicit. John was the one he never wanted to see again. The boys were welcome whenever they wanted and free to call him for help no matter the situation. Dean knew for a fact, Sam had spent a few of his breaks from Stanford with Bobby. And Dean himself had contacted Bobby for assistance on a few of his solo hunts, just in case of course.

Which is why, Bobby not answering any of his phones was an anomaly. The older hunter had always made sure at least one of his phones was accessible in the event a Winchester would call.

The older Winchester was reluctant to wake his brother, especially since these visions took a lot out of him. Not to mention, Sam wasn't sleeping well lately anyway between worrying about Dad and obsessing over what had happened with Jessica. But they had to figure out what was going on with their friend. Bobby not answering his phone seemed like a sign of trouble. Dean racked his brain to recall if the older man had mentioned leaving for a hunt the last time they talked. It was possible. It was also possible Bobby had either forgotten his cell phone, or it had somehow become lost or broken, if he was involved in a hunt.

There was only one way to find out. First stop, Bobby's house in Sioux Falls. It wouldn't take them long to get there. Only a few hours from where they were currently, and the house might hold more information. Solid facts instead of speculation. Reluctantly, Dean shook Sam's shoulder and stepped back in surprise as his younger brother bolted upright in bed. "Another vision?" he asked.

Sam shook his head looking down at his hands as he did so. His fingers rubbed against each other as if trying to wash off an invisible stain.

"Nightmare?" Dean prodded. He knew if he didn't get Sam to talk about what was bothering him his brother would be useless if they were headed into a hunt.

This time Sam nodded in confirmation. "About Jess," he mumbled. "When are these going to stop? I know I could have saved her if I had just told her the truth. But I can't change it now. Why is it...she...still haunting me?"

"Nothing's haunting you, Sammy. Nothing but your own thoughts," Dean was almost completely certain his brother's girlfriend was not a restless spirit. He had double and triple checked every known way to detect a haunting, and his brother was clean.

"I know...I know you're right. It's just...I could have done something...I should have done something…" Sam trailed off lost in his own thoughts.

"You couldn't have known you were having visions of the future. You thought they were just dreams. Anyone would have. Cut yourself some slack, little brother."

"I don't deserve any," Sam said vehemently, the most awake he'd been the entire conversation. "Why did you wake me up?" he asked, finally realizing there must have been some other purpose for Dean waking him other than to pull him out of a nightmare.

"Tried calling Bobby to warn him, but he hasn't picked up," Dean said.

"You tried all his phones?"

"Every single one, even his other, other cell."

"This is bad." Sam now had his legs over the side of the bed and was picking his jeans up from where he tossed them the night before.

"We don't know that," Dean protested. "Let's not get ahead of ourselves."

"Ahead of ourselves?" Sam responded incredulously. "First, my vision. Now, Bobby's not answering his phones. I'd say we're full on into 'I've got a bad feeling about this' territory."

Dean secretly agreed with his brother, but he would never let Sam see that. His little brother was already freaking out, and they didn't even know anything yet. Granted the whole situation was making Dean nervous, but he wouldn't let himself fully freak out until they had a definitive answer. "Okay Han Solo, voice of doom. Why don't we just pack up our stuff and head that direction to see for ourselves?"

Before Dean had even finished his sentence, probably sometime after the Han Solo crack, Sam already had his duffle in hand, moving toward the door. "If anything happened to Bobby…" Dean could hear his brother muttering under his breath. "Especially if I could have stopped it…"

The older Winchester rushed out the door to put a kibosh on that train of thought before Sam started to believe he was responsible for something they weren't even sure was going to or had happened yet. "Sam, Sammy. Chill out dude," Dean said placing a hand on his brother's shoulder. "We don't know anything yet. All we can do is keep trying Bobby's cell, and drive to his place and see what's up."

"I know you're right. In my head, I know you're right. But my heart is freaking out; if something has happened to Bobby, especially with Dad not answering any of our calls..." Sam's breath became faster, and Dean knew his little brother was on his way to a full on meltdown. And with the migraine, he was most likely still nursing they were headed down a very ugly road. "Sam, deep breaths. We don't know anything yet."

"But Dean…" Sam took a deep breath before continuing. "Dean when haven't my visions come true?"

"Sam," Dean paused, making sure he had his brother's full attention. "Remember Max? You had visions where he killed me, but here I am."

"That was one time, Dean."

"One time is all it takes. I'm telling you to keep calm until we have all the info."

"I'll try," Sam said getting in the car. "But the faster we get this figured out the better. And it would make me feel a hell of a lot more at ease if Bobby would return your call."

"Me too. Come on Sammy. Let's see what Bobby's been up to. If he not answering 'cause he has a lady friend over, you are so paying for my therapy bills," Dean joked as he started the car.

"Dude, gross," Sam said, settling against the window closing his eyes, both to ignore his brother and ease the pounding in his head. Honestly, he hoped that's what Bobby was doing because that at least would mean the elder hunter was all right.

Dean left the music at a barely audible level, so Sam could sleep and resisted the urge to slam his hands on the steering wheel in frustration. For all he had tried to placate his brother with the fact Bobby was fine until they heard different, a rock solid pit of worry lodged itself in his stomach.

It wasn't like Bobby to not answer his phone. Their father, yes. Bobby, no. Bobby was the most reliable, constant person in their lives. Even after he had threatened to fill their father full of buckshot, the salvage yard owner had always been there for the brothers. He had given Sam a place to stay during time off from Stanford, given Dean a place to stay when he needed to recoup from hunts gone wrong.

Which is why despite his calm facade, Dean's mind was going a hundred miles an hour, running through all the possible worst case scenarios. Didn't help that Sam was asleep. Not that Dean would go over any his theories with his little brother. Sam's theories based on his vision would make Dean's look like sunshine and rainbows.

He pushed his foot harder to the floor. A little extra speed couldn't hurt. But the elder Winchester had been serious when he told Sam if they ran into Bobby having a little tryst, Dean was absolutely certain he would probably punch the salvage yard owner.

They were getting closer and closer to Sioux Falls, and Dean's phone had yet to ring, vibrate, or light up. The older Winchester had left half a dozen messages since he had started driving; each one when he was sure Sam was dead to the world. Each one had gone straight to voicemail. Hearing the beep, Dean left the same message over and over; the same one he'd started at the hotel. "Bobby you need to answer your phone. You better not be banging some woman. And you better not be dead. Call me back! This is Dean."

Sam woke as they approached Bobby's yard. "Bobby return your calls yet?" he asked with a yawn.

"Nope nothing yet," Dean said checking his phone once more to see if he'd somehow missed a call as they passed under the Singer Salvage sign.

Stepping out of the car, the brothers were surprised to be met by Rumsfeld. The Winchesters paused. Bobby never left the dog alone for more than a few days. If he knew he was going to be on an extended hunt, Bobby would leave Rumsfeld with one of the neighbors usually one of the few ladies in town who didn't classify him as the town drunk but rather a silver fox they couldn't wait to get their hands on. Again Dean's mind flipped between the dark place of "Oh no Bobby's in trouble" and "Oh no Bobby's having sex."

As much as he had no desire to see his mentor in such a compromising position, it was better than the alternative. Steeling himself for what could possibly be a half-naked Bobby or a half-naked woman old enough to be his mother answering the door, Dean knocked. Hard and persistent, so the noise could be heard no matter where Bobby was in his house. The brothers waited a few minutes for a response. Well, Dean waited while Sam loped his way around the yard checking the garage, workshop, and stranded junkers in case the salvage yard owner was outside with his head buried in a fixer-upper project and that was the reason he hadn't answered his phone.

Not finding Bobby anywhere outside, Sam rejoined his brother on the front steps. Dean knocked once more so long and loud, Sam was surprised his older brother's hand wasn't bruised. Receiving no response, the older Winchester bent down to retrieve the hide-a-key.

Bobby had wedged the spare key in between two loose boards on the porch closest to the door. He had explained the reasoning to the brothers when he had shown them the hiding space. "People always look for something out of place like those fake rocks or some creepy ass gnome," he explained. "They never think something hidden can be right in front of them. Which is why when you have to hide something, do it in plain sight." The young boys had nodded, eagerly awestruck by the fact the older hunter had seen fit to share such a big secret with them.

Now, Dean squatted down attempting to wedge his fingers into the tiny space between the warped deck boards. "Damn it," he said as his fingers scraped the edges of the boards unable to fit between them.

"Let me try," Sam said squatting next to his brother.

"Yeah right, like your Sasquatch fingers are going to fit anymore than mine did," Dean said, allowing Sam to try to get his ginormous fingers between the boards. "All right. You had your turn little brother. Move out of the way and let a pro show you how it's done." Dean gently pushed his brother aside, keeping the mood light, and his worry trapped inside the neat little box of his humor. Once again squatting on the splintering boards, he pulled his pocket knife out of his jacket. He thrust the knife into the slim space between the boards. Using the knife, he gently pushed the key to the surface until it popped out of the hole with a slight metallic thunk on to the top of Sam's boot.

"Good going MacGyver," Sam said bending down to pluck the key off his boot.

"Dude, I'm so much better than MacGyver. Now open the door."

Sam wasted no time plugging the key into the lock. He took a deep breath still hoping this was all just a big misunderstanding. That even though the scene would most likely scar both him and his brother for life, they would find Bobby too absorbed in his love life to answer the phone. "Bobby," he called stepping into the house almost being bowled over by Rumsfeld who rushed for the food dish in the kitchen. "Bobby," he called again. Getting no response, he turned to his brother. "You take upstairs; I'll take the here and the basement."

Dean balked for a moment at Sam giving him orders, but one look at the fear in his little brother's eyes and he clamped his mouth shut instead headed for the stairs. "Bobby," he called ascending. He checked the second floor room by room listening to the sound of Sam's boots first descending then ascending the basement stairs.

As Dean finished his sweep of the upper floor, he paused hearing Sam's boots come to stop.

"Dean! Dean! You better get down here! I found something!"

The older Winchester rushed down the stairs, eager yet filled with trepidation to see what Sam had found. He only heard the break in his brother's voice which meant Bobby was still MIA. "What you got?" Dead asked rounding the corner into the library. Bobby's desk was covered in paperwork and books looking much the same as always. Sam was behind the desk, sifting through computer printouts with his hand on a large tome in the center of the desk.

"This is bad, Dean. Really, really bad," Sam said sliding the leather bound book toward his brother.

Dean pulled the book from his brother's hand skimming the opened pages. On one side were words written in a language Dean didn't recognize. On the opposite page was a picture of a couple, heavily tattooed with their hands on the head of third person who seemed to be crumbling to the ground. "What am I looking at here, Sammy?" Considering the urgency in his brother's tone, the older Winchester had a feeling this was bad, very, very bad. Like possible death bad. Dean first gestured to the page of words. "What language is this? What are we dealing with?"

"Arabic," Sam said. "From what I could gather. My Arabic's a little rusty."

"Yeah, four years of not looking at a language will do that to you," Dean interrupted.

"You're just jealous because you can't read it. You never could pick up languages that didn't use traditional letters."

"Shut up and tell me what we're dealing with Boy Wonder. Let's see what kind of mess Bobby got himself into."

"That's what I was trying to tell you before you interrupted. From what I could decipher between the pictures and the Arabic, Bobby left to go hunt a djinn."

"So you're saying Bobby got himself in trouble looking for liquor. Bobby you sly dog," Dean chuckled to himself.

Sam cleared his throat and continued. "Not gin, Dean. Djinn, it's a genie type creature from the Middle East."

"Genie, sweet. Let's go get me my three wishes."

Sam sighed in exasperation, rolling his eyes at his brother. At this rate, his vision was going to come true before they had a chance to stop it. "Would you just shut up and let me finish?" he exploded. "With all your blabbering Bobby could be dead before you even know what we're after."

Dean's head shot up from the book quickly. Sam rarely yelled, and his face was white as sheet. "I'm sorry, Sammy," Dean said quietly as though talking to a spooked animal. "Go ahead."

Sam took a deep breath to compose himself before continuing. "It's Sam," he muttered returning his eyes to the printout in front of him. "Like I was saying: this djinn is a genie-like creature. It does grant wishes, sort of. It shows you your ideal life, your innermost, deepest desires. But Dean, it does that so it can feed off you. The djinn releases a toxin into your body that leads you to this imaginary world of total and complete bliss all so it can drain the positive energy and eventually your life force." Sam finished with a sigh, dropping the printouts back onto the desk.

Dean watched as the stack fluttered down, mixing with the piles that littered over the surface. "Why would Bobby go after something like this alone?" he asked dumbly staring at the picture that lay in front of him. "He's a seasoned hunter. He should know better."

"Maybe he didn't go alone. Maybe his partner was cornered by the djinn. Maybe he thought he could handle it because djinn usually live alone and aren't that powerful unless they been feeding. Any number of reasons. All I know for sure is this is what Bobby was after. And he's in trouble Dean, big trouble. Or he's going to be, my visions don't lie."

"Well then I guess it's Winchesters to the rescue. Does it say anywhere in there how to kill this thing?" Dean was ready to get this hunt done and over with. Especially now that they'd determined Bobby was in trouble.

"Silver knife dipped in lamb's blood."

"Then we've got a pit stop to make. Grab that research and let's get going. Time to save Bobby. And he better need saving when we get there or he owes me some pie."

Sam couldn't resist the urge to smile at his brother's ridiculousness as he scooped up the printouts, closed the book, and grabbed the newspaper article that had been atop the printouts with a city and number of names listed as kidnap victims highlighted.

"I know where we're going," he said waving the article triumphantly like a flag.

"Good. Now move," Dean said locking the door and depositing the key in the secret slot once more.

Sam pulled the door shut just as Rumsfeld squeezed himself through the crack back to the outside. "We'd better drop him by one of the neighbors though. Who knows how much trouble he'd get into if we let him roam around? Or how much trouble we'd be in once we found Bobby."

Dean was once again two steps ahead of his brother already dragging a torn up old blanket from the trunk and spreading it on the backseat. "You better not scratch my baby, mutt," he said flattening the blanket out then patting it in invitation. Rumsfeld immediately jumped in the car and promptly lay down yawning before putting his head in his paws.

Sam smiled and climbed into the passenger seat a pile of papers in his lap. "We need to hurry Dean," he said, the brief smile dissolving as he looked down at the picture of the djinn. "Feels like time's running out."

As they drove to the spot Bobby had marked on the map, the tension was growing more and more palpable, like there was a thin pane of glass holding up all their expectations that could shatter at any moment. Hopefully, despite having to stop and drop off the dog then having to stop to pick up the lamb's blood, they would find their friend in one piece. But between the time frame and the monster, chances were getting slimmer every moment.

The map led to a dilapidated warehouse district about forty-five minutes or so outside of Sioux Falls. There were buildings everywhere. Dean pulled the Impala next to the closest one. The brothers sat in the car staring at the endless maze of metal in front of them.

Where would they even start?

This entire yard was the perfect djinn hunting ground. Deserted, but active enough so a few people would wander through from time to time. Drunks getting lost on their way home from the bar, kids daring each other to spend the night, police and construction workers coming to check on the site to prevent vandalism. Close enough to town if no one stumbled on the feeding ground the djinn in disguise would be able hunt for victims.

Dean glanced across the car to his brother. Sam's face was pinched with worry despite him trying to hide it. Seeing Sam's desperation, Dean's own concern ramped up another notch. Concern not only for their friend but now also for his brother. If something happened to Bobby, Dean couldn't imagine the anguish Sam would go through.

The elder Winchester steeled his face. He couldn't show his worry and terror about not finding their mentor. His one job had always been to protect Sam not only from physical threats but emotional ones as well, sometimes even from himself. Dean stared at the maze of metal in front of them. Where would they even begin?

He opened his door deciding it was better to jump in head first rather than sit here debating what to do. They knew what they were hunting, they knew Bobby was most likely here somewhere, they knew the basics of a rescue (probably more than the basics now that he thought about it), and they knew how to kill the monster.

All that was left to do was find Bobby and the monster.

The question now, was where to start. Dean's eyes frantically scanned the area. Out of the corner of his eye, the elder Winchester could see his brother doing the same. Sharing a look across the roof of the Impala, Dean gestured that they should cover the ground each sweeping one side of the car branching out when they reached the warehouses.

A good plan, though the older Winchester was never too keen on the splitting up part of these plans. But they had to do what they had to do. And splitting up was the quickest way to find Bobby. They worked their way out from the car in a grid pattern. As Dean approached the third warehouse in his row, he glanced over at Sam. The younger Winchester shook his head in a negative confirmation. Neither brother had found any trace of their mentor. As they covered more and more of the warehouse yard, the chances of finding Bobby alive and unharmed were dwindling by the minute.

"No absolutely not. Stop thinking like that," Dean muttered to himself. He didn't normally do that. But it was finally his chance to voice the anxiety that had been building since Sam had first collapsed to the floor with a vision in their motel room. "No way, Bobby's not helpless." He would find a way to keep himself safe until the cavalry arrived.

Entering the first door to the warehouse, Dean stepped in a puddle right inside the door. He pulled his foot back in revulsion at stepping in an unknown substance. Then pushing the door open a bit further, he kneeled next to the substance. It was too watery to be blood and too light to be oil. And too dark to be water. Dean tugged his bandana from where he kept it in his back pocket. He dabbed the corner into the puddle, soaking the cloth just enough to be able to analyze it. The older Winchester brought the bandana to his nose, immediately drawing back as the strong smell of whiskey assaulted his nostrils.

Looking ahead, he saw brown splotches leading further into the warehouse. Dean moved to the next smaller splotch and dipped a different corner of his bandana into it. Again he brought it to his nose. Whiskey. Bobby. "You sly old codger," Dean whispered. He needed to take a step back and take a moment to find his brother. Now that they had a starting point, they would have to follow the trail left by the elder hunter to come to his rescue.

The older Winchester quickly backtracked knowing his brother should be just across the way, in the warehouse parallel to Dean's own. He should be able to find Sam within one of the first two rooms of the warehouse. Then they could come back to get Bobby. Dean's eyes combed the area, landing on Sam's bright green hoodie catching the fall of yard lights from behind a stack of boxes. And the canvas jacket that at some point probably been Dean's. But the older brother wasn't complaining; it made his little brother easier to spot. Dean waited until he was almost on top of his brother before saying anything. The last thing they needed was to be spotted by the djinn when they were so close to their goal. But by the change in Sam's posture he had already sensed his brother nearby.

Sometimes Dean wondered if things like this were a result of spending so much time together or a product of Sam's psychic abilities. Considering, the entire reason they were here was because of one of his little brother's freaky visions.

"What did you find?" Sam asked seeing the contemplative look on his brother's face.

"A clue," Dean said elaborating no more than that, just turning on his heel and leaving the building expecting his brother to follow.

Sam did so without protest. The vision of Bobby's sheet-white face and the blood covered floor was still stark in his mind. They had to find their mentor before Sam's vision had a chance to come to fruition.

As Dean led the way to where he had found the whiskey puddles, he kept one eye out for the puddle and one eye on his brother. The older Winchester could tell his brother's anxiety was growing in proportion to the amount of time it was taking them to find Bobby. Sam was liable to pop a blood vessel in his head with all the obsessing he was doing.

"Hey, Sammy. Why don't you give the analysis a break? Bobby's gonna be just fine. He's an experienced hunter. I'm sure when we find him; he's going to chew our asses out for chasing him out here on an unreliable vision."

Sam shook off his brother's reassurances like a dog shaking off water. "But Dean we know better. We know my visions may not come true exactly as I see them, but they do come true. I can't handle it if something like what happened to Jess happens to Bobby. I mean I knew what was going to happen. I could have prevented it and did nothing. I couldn't stand if that happened again. We have to stop this."

Dean paused in his determined trek. He turned and faced Sam. The anxiety and guilt flooded his brother's face and instantly broke Dean's heart. "Sammy," he said putting his hand on his little brother's shoulder. "Listen to me. None of this, any of it, is your fault."

"But Dean if he…" Sam trailed off taking a deep breath, and Dean could tell he was holding back tears.

"Sam stop right there. I told you once. And I will tell you again. This is not your fault. We will find Bobby. Safe and alive. Now, let's go find the old codger before he gets himself into more trouble." Dean saw a slight smile under Sam's curtain of hair. "Come on Sasquatch, let's get going. And keep your eyes open, didn't see the djinn anywhere on my way over."

He saw Sam take a tighter grip on his knife covered in lamb's blood and pat his pocket feeling for the extra container. As they stepped back out into the glare of the yard lights, Dean led Sam back toward the warehouse from which he had come. His eyes inspected every inch of the ground to once again detect the brown puddle of whiskey Bobby had left for them to follow.

Spotting the discoloration on the ground, Dean held up a hand to stop his brother before pointing to the puddle.

"This is it," he whispered before guiding his brother into the building with the well-practiced military hand gestures. The brothers checked opposite sides of the building room by room.

Neither noticed the djinn anywhere in sight.

Dean observed the droplets of light brown liquid getting larger and larger as they progressed deeper and deeper into the warehouse. Remnants of the djinn's past victims were everywhere, accumulating more and more the farther back they went. Shirts, purses, sunglasses, socks, and jackets: everywhere. Both brothers froze when their eyes landed on a familiar blue trucker cap. Dean could see Sam biting his lip so hard it was a wonder his younger brother didn't bite a hole straight through. "Stop," Dean mouthed. "He's fine." The elder Winchester continued in his path following the droplets that evolved into drops, and splashes. The round areas got even larger once the brothers got past the artifacts.

"Where's Bobby?" Sam mouthed pointing back toward the cap.

"Where's the monster?" Dean mouthed back pointing forward.

They rounded one last corner into a final corridor the ended in a large steel door. " Because this isn't exactly like every horror movie we've ever seen," Dean thought before positioning himself in front of his brother and pushing open the door, only to have it catch not on the metal floor but on something else. Something that was grating between the floor and door. Getting past the door, Dean leaned down to pick up the offending object and held it up to his brother.

Bobby's flask.

Again Sam worried at his lip instead of saying anything. Instead he snatched the flask from his brother's hand before Dean could check it for alcohol. Both brothers progressed forward, eyes glued to every shadow searching for their mentor, ears open for the returning monster.

"There," Sam resisted the urge to yell out to his brother instead stage whispering across the storage room. The younger Winchester froze in his tracks and pointed to a corner that seemed darker than the rest, due to the fact none of the light from the corridor windows found its way into the furthest corner of the room. "Dean, there," he stage whispered again, this time moving toward the corner and the shadow he had indicated.

"It's Bobby."

The grizzled hunter was in the darkest corner of the room. His hands were tied together to a pipe that ran the length of the room above his head. His skin was pale with blood loss. An IV ran from his right arm to a bag hanging on the pipe beside his hands. Sam began to advance toward their mentor. Then he froze. Sam just stopped right there in the middle of the storage room, in the middle of a hunt.

"Sammy," Dean hissed. "What are you doing?" The older Winchester grabbed his knife from his boot, the knife not currently drenched in lamb's blood. He joined his brother and got a full look at their mentor. Dean knew they had a limited amount of time to escape before the monster came back, and Sam standing there like a statue wasn't helping. "Sam, Sammy. Snap out of it. We've got to get out of here before that thing comes back. We found Bobby now we've got to get him out of here. You've got to cut him down. Now!"

Something in the tone of his voice must have finally been enough to bring Sam back to reality. Because almost instantly the younger Winchester pulled the knife from his boot and began sawing at the ropes tethering Bobby to the pipe.

Dean kept one eye on the door and other on his brother. "Unless you want your vision to come true, I suggest you hurry it up Sasquatch. 'Cause we ain't out of the woods yet." The older Winchester became more and more restless as he continued to watch the door. He tensed, hearing footsteps coming down the corridor that was their only means of escape. "Sammy, I'm serious. Hurry it up dude. Pretty sure big and fugly is coming back, and you're attempting to run away with its food source."

"Got it. Dean hold him up, so he doesn't fall," Sam grunted as he cut through the last of the ropes and was met with most of Bobby's body weight because one strip of the rope was still stuck on the pipe. Once his brother was holding up their mentor, Sam was able to slip behind, reach up, and detach the silver of rope.

Dean grunted as the entirety of their mentor's weight dropped on him without warning and he had to scramble to prevent the other hunter from hitting the ground. "A little help would be nice," Dean huffed out between breaths.

Sam came back around so he was on the same side of the pipe as Dean and Bobby, pulling the IV from Bobby's arm as he did so. He wrapped one of Bobby's limp arms over his shoulder while Dean put the other over his shoulder.

"Keep an eye out Sammy, that fugly has got to be around here somewhere." Dean pulled Bobby's weight from Sam's shoulder while Sam dipped his knife into the container from his pocket freshening the lamb's blood on the end of his knife. He then took Bobby's full weight allowing Dean to do the same.

"It's Sam," the younger Winchester said through gritted teeth.

"Yeah, yeah," Dean said leading the trio out of the back room, eyes ever vigilant for the djinn.

The three of them continued on their trek. They were almost to the exit. Dean could see the red glow of the exit signs and flickering yard lights just beyond. Rounding the last corner to freedom, Dean thought they were in clear when Sam's shout of surprise startled him out of his focus. The older Winchester turned to see what had caused his brother to shout. Sam knew better than to yell out during a hunt. There was a tattooed hand gripping the hood of Sam's sweatshirt.

The djinn.

The djinn had his little brother. How had that happened? How had it ended up behind them? Dean's one track mind switched from saving Bobby to saving Sam. Bobby was becoming slightly more alert allowing Dean to pull the older hunter from his brother's grasp. Then he all but dragged Bobby to the wall closest to the escape route. With Dean dragging Bobby one direction and the djinn dragging Sam the other direction, the older Winchester was rapidly about to lose sight of his brother. Leaning Bobby against the wall, Dean whispered, "Be right back. Got to go rescue my pain in the ass little brother."

As he advanced on the djinn, Dean pulled the plastic container of lamb's blood out of his pocket once more just to be safe. No way was this monster getting his brother.

Dean rushed at the djinn pulling the knife from his boot, firstly cutting the hood of his brother's sweatshirt. Once Sam fell to the ground, the djinn turned, confused, wondering where his prey had gone. Instead of finding a victim, the monster got a face full of Dean Winchester and his lamb's blood covered silver knife. "Nobody comes after my family," he said before running the knife straight through the djinn's heart.

Watching the djinn fall dead to the floor, Dean turned his attention back to his brother and his mentor. Sam had backed himself up to the wall so he was now sitting next to Bobby. Dean leaned down next to the pair. "You okay Sammy?"

Sam shot him a glare. "It's Sam. And you ruined my sweatshirt."

"I'll buy you a new one Sasquatch. How's Bobby?"

It was as though in all the excitement the younger Winchester had forgotten their original mission. "Huh?" Sam asked as though confused. Then he turned to his side at a groan. Bobby was finally coming to. Sort of. The elder hunter was still pasty white, but after being disconnected from the IV and having his hands untied, some of his color was returning. "Bobby," Sam said, his voice dripping concern. "Bobby?"

After a few more groans, Bobby's eyes flicked open. His expression was puckered with confusion. "Boys?" he asked. "What are you doing here?"

"Bobby," Sam all but collapsed next to the older hunter in relief. He turned glistening eyes to his brother, begging Dean to explain.

"Haley Joel here had a vision."

"What kind of vision?" Bobby asked, his strength seeming to return to him bit by bit.

"Of you in trouble," Dean answered. "Then when we called and you didn't answer. We got worried."

"Aww," Bobby interrupted.

"Come on," Dean said, "No chick flick moments. We heard you were in trouble, and we came to save your ass. No different than what you would do for us."

Sam finally was able to squeeze a few words out, "Just rescuing our rescuer."

Bobby looked at the brothers and smiled. He couldn't ask for two better people to watch over and two people he would rather count on to have his back.

It was true. Sometimes even the rescuer needed to be rescued.


End file.
